


The Star Child

by TenchiKai



Series: From Russia, With Love [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - From Russia With Love, Gen, Homophobia, M/M, part of a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 06:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10431495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenchiKai/pseuds/TenchiKai
Summary: (Part 4 of the From Russia, With Love series)The child of the once acclaimed “most beautiful couple in Russia,” named Valentin, was born on July sixteenth. His mother called him his little star, because he was always warm. These are the first few years of his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is Val's story. Please read From Russia, With Love first if you haven't! I can't stress enough how you'll miss so much if you don't. Thank you guys for all the love for this series so far!

The child of the once acclaimed “most beautiful couple in Russia,” named Valentin, was born on July sixteenth. It was a uncharacteristically warm day in Saint Petersburg, even for the season, and his mother would remember that because it made her miserable as she made her way to the hospital. This is a story she would tell him often. She called him his little star, because he was always warm.

As the child was being born, the baby’s father was in Japan. Irena, who was still very much scorned by what she considered a dishonor to her, was completely out of contact with him. Despite that, the child had much love surrounding him. His mother’s parents were there, crying tears of joy at his birth. That day, nothing mattered but the baby.

Irena was a doting mother, despite the circumstances. The first thing she did after she brought the child to the large (she wouldn’t call it empty) flat was rescue a pup. A female Borzoi mix that she named Anya. She raised her son and the new puppy without much help. The three of them: the woman, the baby, and the puppy...they were a family. An unconventional family, but a family all the same.

Also in the child’s life was a thin young man with beautiful long blond hair. He would often visit him and his mother. Pulling on that long blond hair and looking into those green eyes are some of his first memories. The angry expressions that came with those green eyes would make him laugh an adorable baby laugh.

When he got older, he would know him as Uncle Yuri. Uncle Yuri never left his life and had always made him feel safe somehow. Sometimes, when they weren’t around his mother, he would tell him stories about his father. Figure skating, gold medals, and Olympic pride. “He was even better than me,” he’d whispered once, when he thought the child was fast asleep. “But don’t ever tell anyone I said that.”

It was around this age his father made his first appearance in his life. At the time, he was very confused. Just a voice on the end of a phone, and some awkward conversation. He had seen pictures, started to understand that his father was a star that had gone supernova. It was also at this age he started private tutoring, to protect him from the cameras that followed around his model mother all his life.

At seven years old, with Uncle Yuri carefully holding his hand, he made his first steps onto an ice rink. “This is where your father was made.” Yuri had told him. “If you like it, maybe I can coach you after I retire. It won’t be long now.” However, he was only seven, and he wasn’t too clear on the meaning of the words. Didn't understand their weight. But he did like the ice. Took to it like he knew nothing else.

Even Uncle Yuri was impressed, proud.

When he was ten, he went to competition for the first time. He was too nervous, and he didn’t do well, didn’t place. He felt so much pressure on his tiny shoulders. He’d never know it, never ever, but his father was watching on a screen a world away with watery eyes, Uncle Yuri broadcasting his routine so that his father could see.

Though he knew his father, communicated periodically with him, he was twelve when he first asked to meet him. Irena spent more time pondering it than she would admit. The pain had subsided enough, and she knew better than to keep the child to herself out of bitterness. On the night after the child’s twelfth birthday, she reached out to Victor, still all the way across the world.

“He wants to see you, his father.” She had said. “He’s right, it’s time.”

“I’m so thankful,” he had replied, his voice changed by honest tears. “I’ll be good to him, I promise you. I love him, you know that.” Another pause, and something changed in his voice again. “Irena, I’m sorry. For everything.”

That was the first time he had apologized - that she allowed him to - and, somehow, that was enough. At least enough to let him have time with his only son.

The first time he met his father in person it was like a shock to the system. He’d spent his whole life looking into the mirror at his face, and suddenly he saw his own features staring back at him. It was all uncomfortable silences, worried expressions, and walking on eggshells. At least at first. He was so well put together, how was he supposed to approach him?

That was when Victor made a small joke about his Russian being rusty, how he’d spent too much time in America and it had spoiled him. The ice between them melted, a little.

When they got back to Victor’s apartment, the boy discovered a large poodle, named Makkachin. It hadn’t been long since Anya’s passing, so Valya - as his Dad had called him - had gladly taken the large dog in his arms. They took to each other quickly. Makka must have known, Victor thought then, that his boy needed comfort.

So, they bonded over animals, at first. From there, it was a similar taste in movies. And then it was music.

And finally, ice skating. His father shared so many stories from his past. Stories of gold medals, competing, Uncle Yuri, and ...

“One day, I’ll tell you about my retirement. About why I’m here, and not in Russia with you. I know you must have questions, but it’s best we hold off. Just until you’re a little older.” A pat on the shoulder. His father’s face looked pained, for some reason.

He was only twelve, and he didn’t really care, then. He was with his father, and he wanted nothing more than his acceptance. So he hugged him, attempting to take that expression off his face.

From then on, he visited his father in America sporadically. Sometimes on his birthday, sometimes for Easter, sometimes for his father’s birthday. His father remained faithfully tight lipped on the why, but again, Valentin didn’t care.

When he was thirteen, he visited his father during the summer months and it was terrible. Florida was hot, sticky, and he thought he’d never feel cool again. It was a common joke that sunburn was easy for both of them, sunscreen or no. Beaches were amazing, so the pain that followed was worth it.

Later that year, he met Alexander. A short, slender boy of his age with dark red hair and brilliant hazel eyes. He was taking ice skating lessons from Uncle Yuri, and they were fast friends. They spent their days skating, and their nights texting or playing video games with (or against) one another. It wasn’t long before they spent every second together.

Wasn’t long before they shared everything. And everything they couldn’t share, they laughed about later.

Wasn’t long before the times spent without Alexander made Valentin ache … just a little.

He was fifteen when he was to see his father again, and he was excited. To everyone’s surprise, it was his mother’s idea, to spend time away from Russia and go to an ice skating camp in Florida.

“I hear there’s going to be a coach there that’s been to the Grand Prix Final, like your father. You know, it’s not too late to do it competitively!”

He sighed. He loved ice skating, but he’d given up that thought a long time ago. But he wanted to make his mom happy. “I’ll go. I mean, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen Dad.”

That day before he left, Alexander shook his whole world. It happened there, at the ice rink, right before he was to leave for the day. “How long will you be gone, again?”

“Well, the camp is two weeks, and I’ll be staying with Dad for awhile...a month? But after the camp, I’ll have a--”

Alexander had silenced him with a kiss. His first kiss. A shaky, unsure thing. It hit Valentin, right there, in that moment, what his feelings were for his friend of so long and what he wanted to do with them. He returned the kiss, with a little too much force.

And they pulled away from one another.

“I’ll...miss you, when you’re gone.” His voice was shaky.

“I...I’ll miss you, too.” He was blushing.

Another kiss, this one more sure. A goodbye.

Uncle Yuri had silently heard and witnessed the whole thing, shaking in the shadows. He knew it wouldn’t be long until he lost Valentin to America as well.

As the skate camp drew to a close, Valentin watched his father kiss the palm of the man that had been his coach. They both had love in their eyes, and something else that Valentin couldn’t quite place. It made him want to tell his father everything. Made him want to open up his guts and spill them.

The butterflies wouldn’t stop flapping their wings. He spilled his guts.

And his father hugged him, and everything was okay again.


End file.
